BECOMING CREATIVE

FIND YOUR UNIQUE PERSPECTIVE

A friend and fellow photographer once asked me a penetrating question. He expressed how he was struggling with how to become a creative artist: “Is my voice original at all, and does it matter?” I think we all battle with this question, so let me try to answer him here, and hopefully it will help you too.

Do your images or mine matter? That depends on why you are making your photographs and for whom. I like to think that most of us make photographs for ourselves, for our personal enjoyment of experiencing nature and exploring the landscape, and not to please someone else. The less concerned we are with who will like or approve of our images, and the more concerned we are with the process of creating art, the better. A great read on this subject is the classic book Art & Fear, by Ted Orland and David Bayles. Here is one quote I like especially: “To make art is to sing with the human voice. To do this, you must first learn that the only voice you need is the voice you already have.”

This seems obvious, but it is good for each of us to remember that great art is made from the heart and soul of the artist, not to gain the approval of others.

Once we realize that the drive to create needs to come from within us, what next? What makes for a creative, original landscape photograph? When we see an inspirational image, our first response will usually be emotional. After the wow factor wears off, we can be more analytical. Does the photo have great light, or a captivating graphic design, or a unique perspective, or all of the above? Are the techniques applied invisible, or do you notice that a particular filter was used, or excessive color saturation or unnatural HDR applied? Whatever the technical qualities we might ascribe to such inspirational images, most importantly, we want to see a sense of freshness, of innovation.

Having a sense of the history of landscape photography is a valuable tool in the process of becoming creative by developing what I call visual literacy. This skill can be defined as the understanding of essential elements of visual design, technique, and aesthetic qualities of an image. It is also the knowledge or memory of photos you’ve seen, and the understanding of what makes images succeed or fail. We all have looked at thousands of photographs. It is this history stored in our brains, that of our favorite photographs made by our favorite photographers, that forms our “customized” visual literacy and that influences our compositions.

For example, if I set up my camera in front of Half Dome in Yosemite and try some compositions, my mind is subconsciously referencing my visual library, my memory of Half Dome images, and I tend to skip over compositions that seem too familiar. If I am editing and discover an image that is very derivative of others, I will disqualify it for most uses.

The photograph that opens this essay and the one opposite show an alder tree trunk in Yosemite. The combination of lichen-covered tree and rock, along with the ambiguity of depth between the two, has brought me back to this location often over the years. The image from 1984 is the first image I made there, and I felt it represented my own unique and creative viewpoint. A few years later I discovered two well-known photographers had previously made very similar images. I had not seen their versions before, so I was very disappointed.

Well, life goes on, and I returned to this tree over many years to enjoy the magical scene and see how I might rework the subject. I have enjoyed the process of standing in that spot again, with my updated visual history in mind, while I’ve tried out new ideas on a location with limited compositional options. I kept trying, and I believed that an image that was unique to me was waiting to be made of this tree and rock. Twenty years later, I made the photograph on the previous spread. Maybe I succeeded, maybe not, but it is not “win or lose” to me.

Alder and Granite Boulder | Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park, California | 1984

Sand Patterns, Sunrise | Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California | 1984

Rather, it is part of the ongoing process of striving to improve, striving for excellence. This experience taught me a valuable lesson. If one’s goal is to create unique images, it helps to know what has been done already.

Like in Yosemite, Death Valley is heavily photographed these days, and it is tough to find original compositions. My dune pattern photograph is a favorite “out of the box” photograph of those famous sand dunes.

I was fortunate to have known Ansel Adams, and I learned from him the importance of being true to one’s vision. I believe that every person has a unique perspective, and the first step to realizing that potential is to believe this is true, that it applies to you!

So back to the original question: “Is my voice original at all, and does it matter?” I readily admit that I am always asking myself this question and have accepted these doubts as part of the artistic process. Enjoy the ride.

Morning Mist | Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park, California | 2013